An Overlap of Coincidence
by Dracoqueen22
Summary: MorixKyouya. Like predator chasing prey, Kyouya is first wooed, teased, and finally captured... strange how he doesn't seem to mind.
1. Part 1

a/n: So, this fic was originally intended to be a oneshot. But I couldn't seem to get it into one document. So it's eight rather short parts all linked together. I'll post them rather quickly as they are short.

Well, this is dedicated to _The Sorrowful Vampress_. It's a birthday fic meant to be given in October but I'm notorious for procrastinating so I've only gotten started on it now. I hope she forgives me.

Also, just for the record, this pairing was hella hard to write. *laughs*

Warning for eventual boykisses, language, possible spoilers, and that I've only ever seen the anime.

_Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran High School Host Club or it's characters. That honor belongs to Bisco Hatori, not I. Nor have I made any money from writing this story. _

Enjoy!

**An Overlap of Coincidence**

**Part One**

Kyouya had a problem. Someone was watching him. It was in the switch of his stomach. The chill up his spine. The sensation of eyes following him everywhere.

Kyouya had an admirer. Or a stalker. Perhaps both.

Kyouya had gifts. Received gifts. Ones that appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Ones without a name attached and no discernable giver.

Kyouya was deeply suspicious. It didn't help that snickering amongst the more boisterous members of the Host Club was too numerous to pin down any single perpetrator. And for the wealth that permeated the visitors and members of the Host Club, the gifts were surprisingly inexpensive but insightful.

He, at first, assumed them to be from his various fans amongst the females of their school. That would be the logical course of thought. However, the gifts appeared in places that only Host Club members had access. So unless one of them was willingly aiding a fan that narrowed down his of suspects significantly. However, Kyouya could just as easily dismiss his fellow Host Club members as well.

Subtle had never been Tamaki's forte. He preferred loud and ostentatious and usually… well, _wrong_. Ideas he thought were perfect but never suited the recipient.

The twins were more inclined to offer gags and tricks.

Haruhi was too straightforward. If she had a taste for him, Kyouya had the feeling she would just come out and say it. Besides, despite the gifts being inexpensive, they were still beyond her monetary means.

Mori-senpai was much the same. He would be subtle, but he would also be direct. Giving secrets gifts in a sneaky fashion wasn't his style at all. Besides, he had more important matters in caring for Honey-senpai. A task all in itself.

In the end, Kyouya had no suspects. And that in itself was alarming.

He was used to knowing everything. Or if he didn't know, he had a method to find out. A means to the madness. Instead, the gifts continued unabated with no clue as to their purpose or their giver. Leaving him flummoxed, annoyed, and oddly... _pleased_?

Kyouya tapped his pen against his clipboard, eyes falling to the simple writing implement and the elegant markings that curled up the side. It was one of the aforementioned presents and was of a certain style that flowed perfectly and always glided across the page. Kyouya couldn't ever remember outwardly displaying his favoritism towards this difficult to find brand, but someone had noticed. And someone had remembered.

Scanning his list, Kyouya returned his eyes to the shelves in front of him, a quick snap of his wrist marking one item off. He searched for the next and then the next. The mindless task allowed his mind to wander, even as he made accurate notes in the margin for the supplies the club would be needing in the future.

Funds were running low once more. It was time for another photobook to be released. Perhaps a duet this time? Something unusual. Haruhi and Mori-senpai? The twins and Honey-senpai? That would certainly surprise the women.

Kyouya's pen paused at the next item on his list, one that required an accurate count. He tapped the word and lifted his eyes to the shelves, looking up and up until he found the proper box. On the top shelf, out of his reach. Of course it would be.

Lips twisting into an annoyed scowl, Kyouya rose up on his toes. His fingers brushed the outer edge of the box. Whose bright idea was it to put stock on the topmost shelves anyway? The only one who could possibly reach that was--

A hand reached past him and grasped the box with little effort. It brushed against Kyouya in the process, overwhelming him with the sharp scent of something woodsy and wild as well as subtly sweet. Kyouya didn't have to look to identify the person, but he did anyway. Withdrawing his hand and watching as Mori-senpai brought the item down for him.

The stoic teen's face betrayed nothing as Kyouya reached for it. "Thank you," Kyouya said because all favors required a proper response.

"Probably shouldn't use that shelf," Mori-senpai rumbled and watched Kyouya with a peculiar gleam in his grey eyes.

Kyouya had already made a mental note of that. How peculiar for Mori-senpai to point it out. And further, for him to have appeared right in Kyouya's moment of need. Without Kyouya having to _ask –_ something he loathed to do – for help.

He turned away and set the box on a lower shelf, peeling off the lid to count the contents. Fully aware of Mori-senpai's lingering presence, his height shadowing some of the light in the supply closet and making the room seem much smaller.

"Has everyone already left?" Kyouya asked. If only because Mori-senpai was _still_ standing there which meant he probably had a reason and Kyouya, in the interest of all things factual and possibly blackmail-worthy, was curious as to what it might be.

Mori-senpai folded his arms over his chest. His head tilted to the side in that usual manner of his.

"Yes."

A perfectly succinct answer. Never a word wasted.

Except for Honey-senpai, Kyouya assumed. He couldn't think of a single day in his acquaintance with the two cousins where they hadn't left school together.

"Waiting for Honey-senpai?" He didn't even turn to look at the other teen.

"Mitsukuni has a meeting."

"Ah."

Kyouya marked the number of items in the box – a paltry half-dozen – and closed the lid. He stored it on a shelf closer to his own reach. He glanced at the highest shelf, wondering if perhaps Mori-senpai was lingering because he had nothing to do but wait. Of all the club members, Mori-senpai had always been the hardest for him to accurately pin and label. Just when he thought he had the older teen carefully notated, Mori-senpai would do something to surprise him. And it was hard to read someone who held himself in such careful control. Except of course, for when Honey-senpai was concerned.

Still, Kyouya wondered if there was anything – or _anyone_ – else that could make Mori-senpai lose his ever-present calm.

"I have to check those boxes, too," Kyouya said offhandedly, pretending to be fully focused on the list in front of him that was nearly completed.

It wasn't exactly a request for help or a demand that Mori-senpai provide assistance, but the older teen understood anyway. Kyouya couldn't help the small smile that curved his lips as Mori-senpai reached up and lowered the five or six boxes to an empty shelf.

Counting continued in a comfortable silence, one that Kyouya rather liked. He enjoyed this quiet moments after the club had closed for the day. When the hustle and bustle ended and he could focus on all the important administrative duties that were above and beyond Tamaki-the-dreamer's focus. Facts and figures, charts and graphs, they were the easiest for Kyouya to understand.

He felt Mori-senpai's stare more than he saw it. And when Kyouya looked, he found those solid grey eyes focused on his pen. Considering that it wasn't entirely unique – black with silver etching – Kyouya found that odd. His head cocked to the side as that curling curiosity surged to the forefront of his mind. It dragged questions to his lips that he refused to let spill from him like Tamaki unable to properly express himself.

"That--"

"Ta-ka-shi!" Honey-senpai's cheerful voice filled the room as the petite blond launched himself at his cousin, arms wrapping around Mori-senpai's neck as his legs swung like a pendulum. "Ne, did you wait long? Ne? Ne?"

Sometimes, Kyouya envied him for his energy. It was the sort of vitality that could run the world, if only it could be harnessed. Perhaps it had something to do with all the sweets he consumed. Or perhaps it was only part of the mask that every member of the Host Club had cultivated in some shape or form. The energy was to be envied, yes. But Kyouya wasn't sure if he could stomach the optimism and bubbly-bright, pink that seemed to come with it.

"Not long."

Mori-senpai barely blinked at the sudden assault of cute and cuddly that attacked him. Then again, he was used to it. Much in the same manner that Kyouya was used to Tamaki whining and crying to him on a near-daily basis.

Brown eyes gleamed with happiness before focusing on the other person in the room. "Hey, Kyou-chan! You look busy!" Honey-senpai declared with an excitedly waving arm, the only currently holding his precious stuffed rabbit.

Kyouya adjusted his glasses. "Taking stock as usual, Honey-senpai."

"Sounds boring," the shorter teen commented cheerfully. "See you tomorrow, Kyou-chan."

Twitching, Kyouya dismissed the two with one hand. Already refocusing on his nearly completed list.

In that manner, hands carefully holding his cousin in place, Mori-senpai and Honey-senpai left Kyouya to his stock. It wasn't until the sound of their voices faded that Kyouya paused to think; the entire encounter struck him as odd. Why would Mori-senpai not wait for Honey-senpai outside of whichever room holding his cousin? Why had he appeared at such an opportune moment?

Head tilted to the side, Kyouya withdrew a second notebook from behind the first, flipping open the pages to make a careful notation. Another odd string of behavior from the perpetually unreadable Mori-senpai. The end of his gifted pen tapped against the pages as Kyouya considered the mystery that was Morinozuka Takashi.

Certainly something to ponder.

* * *

a/n: There are seven more parts to this. I'm not entirely happy with it, but so long as someone enjoys it, I will be satisfied. Thanks for reading!


	2. Part 2

a/n: I'm so out of practice with Ouran that it's not funny. Ah, well. Enjoy!

**An Overlap of Coincidence **

**Part Two**

Kyouya arrived at the third music room precisely fifteen minutes before the club was to open and receive guests. He was later than usual, but being as on time meant he was a good twenty minutes earlier than everyone else, no one seemed to notice. The reason for his belated arrival was of no consequence, but it did succeed in making him irritated that he hadn't as much time to prepare as he usually did.

Tamaki issued orders this way and that. Lighting pointed this way; large flowers turned precisely that way to show the most beautiful blooms. The couch on _this _side of the room and not that side. Etcetera. They were words that passed over and through Kyouya, who felt a relief that today was not a day they indulged in overly complicated costumes. It was certainly a relief to the budget at any rate.

His critical gaze swept over Tamaki's changes. Making certain that none of them would impede the club's activities and that Tamaki hadn't chosen something inherently foolish – as was his usual wont. Satisfied that there would be no undue complication as a result of Tamaki's whims, Kyouya turned to his own preparations. At his usual table, rarely utilized as he was more often to be found wandering the floor as an overseer but still present for the occasional customer who requested him, he fluffed pillows. Rearranged flowers. Placed a tea set of his choice. Something in a pale violet and fern trim, he decided.

It wasn't until he started checking the vases to ensure the water levels were at an acceptable level that he noticed the box. It was small, about the size of his hand, and nondescript. But the tag clearly stated his name. Obviously, the wrapped thing was meant for him. Arriving in much the same manner as all the other mysterious gifts Kyouya had received lately.

He paused and contemplated the package. It wasn't so much that he considered it to be a possible danger, but he did wonder how it could have arrived without anyone seeing the giver. Only members of the club, excluding those trouble-making twins, held keys to the third music room.

It was also oddly light. If he shook it, he could hear rustling but nothing else. Kyouya's gaze slid to the side, surveying the attentions of his fellow club members. But no one seemed to be paying him the least bit attention. The twins were prodding Haruhi in the cheek as she prepared her Commoner's Coffee – all caps because the president had decreed it to be so. Mori-senpai was setting out a variety of sweets for his cousin. Whose eyes had grown wide, round, and dazzled. And Tamaki was sulking in a corner; Haruhi had probably chastised him again.

In short, it was business as usual.

Kyouya returned his attention to the box in his hand, finger reaching for the ribbon and giving it a light tug. The dark-red decoration came undone easily. Kyouya slipped it into his pocket, to eventually join the other ribbons he had collected. They were his only proof that the giver was probably the same person.

The lid slid open. And Kyouya was well aware that the club would be opening for business within the next five minutes. He hadn't much time.

Tissue paper greeted his eyes. Kyouya moved the white annoyance to the side and pulled out the object beneath it. Objects rather. As the contents consisted of a pair of tickets, prime seating, to a show that had been sold out for _months_. Kyouya knew this because it was something Fuyumi and himself had wanted to see but lost out on the opportunity because of the rarity of the tickets. Even his Ootori connections had been pressed to get them in.

Kyouya stared at the tickets and wondered how in all the world his... _stalker_ had known his desire to see this play. This particular gift was insightful. Far more than any of the others had been. As though his admirer were "stepping up his game".

And funny that Kyouya should automatically attach "his" rather than "her" as though his unconscious mind had already decided that his admirer was male. It was painfully obvious that he didn't believe such gifts to be possible of the insipid girls that the Host Club usually attracted. But perhaps a female who didn't partake in their services? Someone more like Haruhi? Was there one to be found like her in all of Ouran Academy? She was the only one who had any common sense. Likely because of her upbringing. Kyouya found it charming, especially since he could relate to Haruhi on an intellectual level.

Could it be her? Did he want it to be?

But his intuition scoffed at the idea. Something this subtle? This sneaky? Haruhi was far more the type to stroll right up to him and declare her intentions. And from all of Kyouya's research, it didn't seem Haruhi was much interested in romance right now. There were reasons she had come to Ouran and finding a potential husband wasn't one of them.

Still, logic dictated that his admirer had to be a member of the Host Club. Meaning that his prior deductions were incorrect. But who could it be?

The same reasoning that had dismissed his fellow members before cropped up in the back of his mind. The possibility that it was the twins involving him in another of their games was something he had to consider as well. But then, would they bother doing something so thoughtful all for the sake of a good laugh? Not that there was one to be found here. Kyouya wasn't falling head over heels for the gift-giver at all. If the gifts were... occupying his attention then that was only to be expected.

Tamaki then?

It certainly seemed like something his foolish brain would concoct. Except that Tamaki had very little patience. He was of the type to want to watch from some corner – attempting to be stealthy and failing miserably – just to watch Kyouya's reaction. No doubt his excitement would betray him in the end.

Who else was there?

In the midst of his musings, Honey-senpai bounded to Kyouya with all the energy of someone who spent his entire life imbibing far too much sugar. Big, brown eyes shifted from the item in Kyouya's hands to his face. He noisily poked his nose in and tried to read the printing on the tickets.

"What's that, Kyou-chan?" he asked with a beaming smile.

Kyouya paused to consider.

Honey-senpai perhaps? He looked at the short blond. All – fake – innocence and giggles. He was as much a mystery as Mori-senpai at times. His loli-shota performance half-act and half-reality. How talented of Honey-senpai to blur the lines between.

"A mystery," Kyouya replied in a peculiar tone.

And really, it was something he hadn't solved. Which burned his blood. Kyouya _hated_ not knowing the answer. And he despised being unable to immediately locate them either.

Honey-senpai glanced up at him, one finger pressed to his chin in thought. "Looks like a gift to me." He bounced on the balls of his feet.

Kyouya's eyes narrowed minutely. "So it would seem."

"Who from?"

"That is the question, isn't it?" Kyouya murmured more to himself than to Honey-senpai, mind already spinning a half-dozen different conjectures.

The older teen looked as if he were going to say something further. But Tamaki's voice broke through both their conversation and Kyouya's thoughts.

"Welcome, lovely flowers!" the president declared with wide-flung arms and a joyous expression. Hearts and sparkles practically danced around his face.

And with that, the club was officially open for business. Honey-senpai bounded away, taking his mysterious line of questioning with him. Kyouya carefully placed the tickets in his pocket. He could already imagine the look of sheer happiness on Fuyumi's face when he showed them to her.

The time for thinking passed as Kyouya focused fully on the club and taking care of their customers, including his own. Of course, considering his type, they were content to sit quietly in his presence and blush as they sipped at their tea. This was advantageous to Kyouya. Who could keep one eye on the actions of his fellow club members and another eye on his customers and yet not slight either party.

Some days, Kyouya truly felt as if he were the mother of this motley assortment of strange characters, though he wasn't sure if Tamaki qualified as the father. Slightly deranged and crazy uncle perhaps but not the father. No, Mori-senpai was the one more suited for that particular role. But their positions had already been dictated by Tamaki, logic aside. And it required more effort than Kyouya was willing to put forth to sway him in that regards.

"It's terrible! No, blasphemy!"

The horrified voice was accompanied by an equally horrified gasp and Kyouya's brows lifted as he – and his guests – turned to see Tamaki all but swooning in despair. Haruhi, the recipient of his sympathies, was bland-faced as always.

"Is it that unusual?" she returned coolly, and Kyouya was incredibly grateful that she had joined them. It was always nice to have another voice of reason – Mori-senpai included in this – amid the madness that Tamaki seemed to exude in communicable doses.

"That my precious daughter has never been to an onsen is a tragedy that I can't allow you to suffer any longer!" Tamaki cried. One wrist pressed to his forehead before he scooped Haruhi up in a breath-stealing embrace that left her dangling limply. "This must be fixed immediately."

And Kyouya sighed. He already knew where this was heading. He didn't need to see the twins exchange devious glances, slapping their hands together in high-fives to know who had been the instigator either. He simply pulled out his notebook and laptop – his guests sufficiently distracted by all the commotion – and began to plan.

As luck would have it, his family owned an onsen in Hokkaido.

* * *

a/n: Six more parts to go, coming soon! I promise! I hope you enjoyed!


	3. Part 3

a/n: Well... something I had thought to be crap is not, in fact, crap! Yay! Because of that, I felt emboldened enough to post the next two pieces. I hope you like them, too!

**An Overlap of Coincidence**

**Part Three**

An onsen as it turned out was a fine idea indeed. Kyouya had managed to swing it into a profitable venture along the way, hiring a rather stealthy crew of cameramen to capture the club in tasteful yet enticing moments. Something else for the photobooks that provided the bulk of their earnings.

They were due to leave on Thursday as Friday and Saturday were a school-wide holiday and return Sunday evening. Which meant that in the days leading up to Thursday, the Host Club was a bevy of excitement and disappointment. The latter mostly exuding from the females bemoaning their inability to tag along and witness the hosts in their yukata, surrounded by the filmy steam of the water.

Fingers clicking over his keyboard, Kyouya was only half-aware of the goings on beyond his periphery. He heard nothing out of the usual so was content that focusing on his laptop wouldn't lead to some detrimental destruction of property. With the exception of the girls swooning left, right, and center, it was a rather quiet day for the club – a rare thing indeed. And Kyouya was taking every advantage of it.

Mori-senpai was of the same mind as Kyouya. And even now, he sat across from the bespectacled teen, drinking tea as he quietly watched over Honey-senpai and the rest of the club much the way a teacher would regard his students. A strange occupation for Kyouya to equate with Mori-senpai perhaps, but it fitted him for the moment. An almost faraway glint to those grey eyes. Which only focused to freshen his tea or Kyouya's when he had almost drained his cup dry.

It was for quiet moments like these that Kyouya appreciated Mori-senpai. Even Haruhi could occasionally be dragged into the noise and bustle of the club. Only in Mori-senpai could Kyouya find a modicum of maturity. Kyouya had the feeling that had Mori-senpai never been included in this club, the Ootori son would've lost his own senses a long time ago. Tamaki would've dragged him into his world, and there would have been no escaping.

Without taking his eyes from the screen, Kyouya reached for the newest gift in the steady stream of them. The flashdrive had been resting on his computer when he'd returned from a quick trip down the hall. It'd been in an innocuous box with the same dark-red ribbon as all the others. He wasn't sure of the contents yet, but Kyouya was pretty certain that it didn't hold a virus. Still, he made sure his protection was up to date and carefully isolated all of his data before popping the drive into his USB port.

He felt the eyes more than he noticed anyone gazing his direction. Kyouya paused, fingers resting on the keys as his laptop considered the drive. His eyes slid to the side, performing a casual sweep of the room. He caught Haruhi watching him along the way. The lone female of their troupe looked at him with an expression Kyouya wasn't certain he could interpret. Curiosity mixed with... _satisfaction_?

How strange.

Their eyes met. Haruhi's stare seeming to say "I know something you don't" before the moment was broken by Tamaki's interference.

Curiouser and curiouser.

Could Haruhi be the one leaving the gifts for him? He supposed it were possible, if beyond her character. Though intelligent, she could be surprisingly blind to the obvious or the subtle. Would she have noticed all these little details about him? Perhaps if she truly had interest in him then yes. But Kyouya had never received the slightest inkling from her that their friendship meant anything more.

Sighing softly to himself, Kyouya attempted to focus on the contents of the gifted drive. A cursory scan of his defensive software revealed no virus, spyware, or anything else malicious. Good to know.

The flashdrive contained only one file. And as Kyouya opened it, he saw that it contained images. Dozens and dozens of images. Scanned documents. Pictures. Diagrams. Accounting slips. Piles and piles of information, all dominated by a_ very _familiar symbol.

Kyouya could only stare in slack-jawed amazement.

This... This was... Only every inch of detail on the Diamonde Corporation that Kyouya had been relentlessly pursuing – much to his own vexation – for the past three months! And there it was. Right in front of him. At the tip of his fingers! He knew that he had to check the validity of the information, but Kyouya had a very intuitive feeling that it would all prove to be legitimate. Every last legal document and snapshot.

"Ohhhh?"

That near-purring, dual noise of interest could only belong to the twins. And Kyouya's guess was proven correct when both Hikaru and Kaoru appeared behind him, one propped up on either of his shoulders. Twin amber gazes peered past him and tried to decipher what was on his screen.

"What are you doing?" Hikaru asked.

Or Kyouya thought it to be Hikaru. He wasn't like Haruhi; he couldn't tell them apart by their looks. But their voices held enough distinct intonation that if he focused, he could hear the difference.

Kyouya didn't spare them a glance, nonchalantly closing down the folder and saving it for later perusal. He needed privacy to digest all of that information, even if something inside of him nearly squealed with joy. Not that he would ever let such a reaction show on his face. It was unseemly. And worse, one might mistake him for Tamaki.

Who happened to be looking their way at the moment, purple eyes shining with his usual burst of starry sunshine. He had paused in the midst of wooing one of many customers for the day, gaze strangely focused in Kyouya's direction. It held a different intent than Haruhi's or that of the twins.

"I'm working," Kyouya answered, more bothered by Tamaki's stare than anything.

It was such a rare expression on his face. It still carried his usual exuberance, but there was something else there as well.

"Which the both of you should be doing as well," he finished. The words were punctuated by the tap-tap-tap of his fingers across the keys. Not that the twins obeyed them with any speed.

Kyouya internally sighed. His moment of peace was ruined.

Kaoru made a rude noise with his mouth. "We _are_ working," he said with a hint of lighter mischief. His arm fell heavier on Kyouya's shoulder.

Kyouya was struck with a thought. Could it be the twins? Either as a singular entity or together? He could never be sure with them, after all. Never be certain just how far their game extended.

He paused and reached to adjust his glasses. "Your definition of work vastly differs from mine."

"What's this?" Hikaru asked, completely ignoring him and tapping one finger against the flash drive. "You don't usually use these."

That Hikaru had noticed such a detail was a tick in the Hitachiin column. Kyouya was slightly concerned as to what harm being the object of their affection might cause him. If it were true.

"Gift," Mori-senpai rumbled as he joined the conversation for the first time. He'd been present when Kyouya had unwrapped the box but not when he'd originally found it.

"Oh?"

Kyouya heard their interest in stereo as both twins leaned around him. Their bodies pressed against him with only the back of his chair serving as a buffer.

"Kyouya-senpai has an admirer?" Kaoru inquired mischievously.

"Who is it?" Hikaru added.

Both twins succeeded in crowding him with their presence, smelling faintly of something citrus and flowery. Kyouya had always thought the twins to be something like an orange or lime. Just enough bright color to draw a person in but with a tart inside that puckered the mouth and made them reconsider another bite.

"Even if I knew, I certainly wouldn't tell either of you," Kyouya returned, unimpressed with their attempts to crowd him. He focused instead on his laptop and not the heat of their proximity. Wondering why Mori-senpai had thought it prudent to offer up such information.

As always, however, Mori-senpai's face was unreadable. His grey eyes were a careful mask. He silently watched as Hikaru and Kaoru attempted to tease Kyouya and the junior refused to rise to their bait. He was far too used to their antics. And unfortunately for the Hitachiin brothers, Kyouya's patience held unrivaled levels.

Tamaki's, however, did not. The blond came storming to Kyouya's rescue. All but crying, as he made a beeline for their corner of their room. And customers watched with eyes shaped like hearts and hope in their body language. Always anxious to see some kind of show between the members of the Host Club.

"Alright, break it up!" Tamaki loudly declared and attempted to bodily shove the twins aside. Acting like either a jealous lover or a father protecting his daughter from suitors – something he usually only did with Haruhi. "Don't bother Mother while he's working! Let him enjoy his gift!"

Hikaru and Kaoru laughed and teased Tamaki in return. But they obeyed. Reluctantly giving Kyouya some space. Kyouya, in turn, blinked and turned a suspicious look onto his oddly acting best friend. Tamaki seemed to freeze under his stare like a deer in headlights.

"Because," he said with a nervous laugh and shifty eyes. "It's important work, you know. For the running of the club and everything. Right?"

Tamaki didn't wait for him to answer. Instead turning and yelling at the twins even more. Which prompted both Hikaru and Kaoru to laugh as they half-danced, half-darted away from his exuberant ire. Kyouya didn't fail to notice that a cherry-red had taken over his best friend's expression.

Tamaki was blushing.

Kyouya stared. And stared. And stared some more. Unable to even so much as blink, realization pouring over him like a bucket of very cold ice water.

_Tamaki? _His admirer was _Tamaki? _

Suddenly, Kyouya felt as if he were trapped in a very bad dream. One filled with cotton candy clouds and gumdrop streets. Tamaki was trying to hit on him. In his own, surprisingly clever and even more surprisingly insightful way, Tamaki was trying to make a pass at him.

For the first time in his life, Kyouya had no idea what the hell to do.

* * *

a/n: Poor Kyouya? Whatever is he to do?


	4. Part 4

**An Overlap of Coincidence**

**Part Four**

Despite Kyouya's almost lapse in composure and the near-heart attack brought about by his revelation, the club still attended their vacation. And Kyouya, never one to bow down to circumstances, figured that there was at least one way to salvage the situation. If Tamaki "_liked_" him then Kyouya had no choice but to face the problem head first and straightforwardly.

First, he had to sort out his own feelings. Which should've been simple but emerged rather complex. Tamaki was his friend. And if Kyouya wanted to be honest, something like his first true friend. One who hadn't been after Kyouya for his connections. Tamaki was the first to see _Kyouya _and not the persona that Kyouya had built for himself.

So yes, there was affection of a sort there. Kyouya cared for Tamaki in a way he knew he'd never care for another person. But was it romance? Was it loving affection? Was it something that would lead to kissing – of all things – and groping. And dear gods, the idea of trying to do something erotic with the perpetually naïve Tamaki broke Kyouya's brain a little bit.

Yet, all of that was nil if Kyouya didn't hold the interest to pursue Tamaki in return.

Did it have to be Tamaki?

A part of Kyouya was still stuck on that point. In the end, it'd been Tamaki, and he never would have guessed it. In fact, Tamaki was only one rung up from the bottom of his list. Kyouya's absolute last guess had been Honey-senpai.

Kyouya sighed to himself. This was complicated, and it only worsened the more he watched Tamaki. Trying to discern the absolute truth for himself. And now that he thought to watch, some of the blond's actions were rather suspect.

Take this very moment for instance.

They had arrived in Hokkaido without fuss. Though the lateness of their arrival determined that they only had time to change before settling down to dinner, something all of their hungry bellies didn't seem to mind. Tamaki was of course fussing over Haruhi in her Hitachiin-gifted yukata with her patiently bearing the brunt of his attention.

Someday, Kyouya would have to ask her to teach him how she handled someone like Tamaki –and her father by proxy as they were quite similar indeed – so flawlessly. He had the feeling it was the kind of tactic that might help him take over the world. If he were so inclined.

"Just keep your filthy hands off my precious daughter!" Tamaki declared, voice loud but not enough to disturb the other patrons thankfully. He attempted a stern look. But really, in the face of the Hitachiin twins, it failed miserably.

"What if she _wants_ us to touch her?" the twins asked in stereo. Expressions of devilish intent echoed on identical faces.

Kyouya exhaled and let their usual debate wash over and through him, noticing that Haruhi held the same placid expression. She wouldn't involve herself in the usual repartee between Hitachiin and Suoh unless they dragged her into it. In fact, it was much the same tactic that Kyouya had learned to adapt.

Instead, he enjoyed his meal in silence, noting that the others enjoyed themselves as well. On the other side of Haruhi, Honey-senpai was keeping up a rather steady stream of conversation with her. And on his free hand, Mori-senpai ate steadily.

"Mother," Tamaki whined and all but draped on Kyouya's side. "Our children won't listen to their father. What should I do?"

"You're the disciplinarian," Kyouya answered steadily, well aware that his choice of words would only further Tamaki's madness. But honestly, when had he ever succeeded in curbing the idiocy? "Make them respect you."

Tamaki pouted. Those big, purple eyes tried to work their puppy-like magic on Kyouya. Unfortunately, Kyouya was the most immune of their group. Even if he did give in upon occasion.

He returned his focus to his food, but something pinged on his senses. A stare that seemed to pin him down. Lifting his eyes, he caught Mori-senpai looking directly at him. He continued to eat. Yet, there was something in his gaze that sent a chill down Kyouya's spine. Not one of fear but of curiosity. He felt like a very large puzzle that Mori-senpai was attempting to decipher, only all the clues were missing. Well, most of them.

Unsure how to react, Kyouya could only return the stare. Wondering if they were playing that commoner game of staring into each other's eyes to see who would blink first. It was Mori-senpai who broke, attention snagged by Honey-senpai who dragged him into whatever story he was telling Haruhi. And with that Kyouya was released, though he couldn't shake the effect of that stare.

What had Mori-senpai been trying to say?

"Ah, that was good," the twins said in tandem, leaning back and patting their bullies. They then looked at Kyouya. "We're bored, senpai."

He very casually set his chopsticks across the top of his bowl. "There's a game room down the right corridor. It's open until midnight."

Hikaru and Kaoru slapped their palms together in a high-five. They were up from the table in a snap. It didn't take long for them to snag Haruhi from her seat, dragging her along. This of course did not sit well with Tamaki. He leapt up so quickly that the tableware rattled and a vase of flowers would've tipped over if not for Mori-senpai's steadying hand.

"You can't hog my precious Haruhi to yourself!" Tamaki both wailed and looked outraged.

Gazing at the idiot, Kyouya doubted just for a second that he had been the one to leave the gifts after all. He watched as Tamaki darted around the table, chasing after the laughing Hitachiin brothers and their captive. The door slammed shut behind the four, whose antics caused some of the passing guests in the hallway to giggle. Well, at least they weren't annoyed by the noise.

"Ne, Kyou-chan, wasn't there cake?" Honey-senpai asked. His eyes grew big and round and hopeful, Usa-chan clutched tightly under one arm.

Kyouya dabbed at his mouth with his napkin before folding it and setting it beside his plate. "Yes, Honey-senpai. There is a dessert cart that will come by shortly."

"I can't wait that long," Honey-senpai pouted and rose to his feet with the sort of energy that was only rivaled by their lord's exuberance. "I'll just find it myself."

And with that, Honey-senpai departed as well. Skipping out the door in search of the dessert cart and its assortment of treats.

Kyouya should've known better to expect some kind of relaxing vacation. He rose to his feet, taking a moment to stretch out his limbs and patting down his own yukata for visible wrinkles. He couldn't very well leave the idiots on their own. Who knew how much property damage would ensue? Or if they would disturb the other guests?

As the only one remaining, Mori-senpai followed Kyouya's example and rose to his own feet. Kyouya remembered as he moved around the table the strange look Mori-senpai had given him earlier. As if his grey eyes had been trying to bore through Kyouya's own. Of all the club, Mori-senpai had always been the most unreadable and now was no exception.

"It would be nice to have a quiet dinner for once," Kyouya commented offhandedly, though he knew such a thing were impossible. And he had to admit that a part of him enjoyed the liveliness associated with their club. It was very different from the cold, business-like dinners at the Ootori manor.

"Impossible," Mori-senpai agreed in his normal manner.

"At least two of us have some sense," Kyouya added as he headed for the door. In the process, he passed by Mori-senpai who hadn't moved once he rose to his feet.

But a hand snagged Kyouya's arm and he halted, surprised by the action.

"Kyouya."

Confusion overrode everything else. Kyouya turned, a question on his lips. And just like that, Mori-senpai was there. Barely a foot separated them, if that. It was his hand on Kyouya's arm. Not that he hadn't already assumed that. And as he watched, Mori-senpai's free hand lifted, fingers gently grasping his chin.

"It's not Tamaki," Mori-senpai said simply, gaze resolute.

Before Kyouya could think to interpret that statement, Mori-senpai closed the distance between them. Bringing with him that wild, woodsy scent. His lips descended over Kyouya's in a warm, chaste kiss that he hadn't expected at all. Kyouya found himself frozen, unable to react. Even as the flood of warmth traveled from their point of contact and down through his body like being covered in a thick blanket.

The kiss ended as quickly as it began. Vestal and warm. Leaving Kyouya to meet steady, grey eyes with surprise. Mori-senpai said nothing else. Just looked at him as he dropped his hold on Kyouya and walked sedately from the room. As if kissing his underclassmen and fellow club member were something he did every day of the week and there was nothing unusual about it. Not at all.

Kyouya stared at his back and after that, the closed door to the room that had used for dining. He stood and stared for a time that lasted much longer than logic dictated it should.

It hadn't been Tamaki; Kyouya had been wrong. It hadn't been Tamaki. And for the first time in his life, Kyouya was_ glad _that he'd been wrong. But Mori-senpai? The very same person who rarely noticed anyone outside of his cousin?

In all his calculations, in all his observations, in all his _facts_, Kyouya wouldn't have come to this conclusion. And that fact bothered him. That he had never seen it coming; that he hadn't even noticed at all. That somehow, this little detail had completely escaped him.

Well, not so little if he thought about it.

Kyouya lifted a hand, touching his lips.

Not so little detail at all.

* * *

a/n: Four more parts to go! Just waiting on my beta to shuttle them back to me. Hope you enjoyed!


	5. Part 5

a/n: So, so, so sorry for the wait, guys. I've had major computer trouble, as in my laptop has DIED. I'm presently working on my mother's until I can afford a new one. Or afford to get mine fixed. So in the meantime, updates aren't going to be as frequent. I don't know when I'll be able to get another.... April perhaps? It's up in the air at this point since I'm sorta between jobs...

Anyway, the next update will be sometime during March, I don't know when exactly. Just keep an eye out for it. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

**An Overlap of Coincidence**

**Part Five**

Kyouya had always appreciated silence. It was necessary for calculation and contemplation. It was the perfect breeding ground for plans and plots. He enjoyed the quiet because it was entirely different from the noise and bustle of the host club.

The bench was hard, nothing more than carved stone with elaborate fantasy scenes etched into the pale grey. Kyouya sat on it because it was the only seat to be found in the garden that didn't involve the grass or anything similar. He was surrounded by the light scent of gardenias and jasmine. And somewhere beyond his sight, a small, likely artificial brook babbled.

His eyes were glued to the pages in front of him, flipping through careful notation after notation, scanning again and again his own writing. His own words. This particular notebook, smaller than the rest and easily concealed, contained every observation he had ever recorded about his fellow club members. Down to the tiniest and seemingly insignificant detail.

But no matter how many times Kyouya looked them over or how many times he compared each calculation, he couldn't come to the conclusion reality had given him. It was Mori-senpai. Mori-senpai was his admirer. Mori-senpai _liked_ him… for lack of a word that didn't sound middle-school and juvenile.

Kyouya didn't understand. He hadn't seen this coming. Nothing in Mori-senpai's behavior could have led him to this belief. Nothing except for the kiss.

His free hand lifted, fingers brushing across his lips. Despite the heavy aroma of flowers in the air, Kyouya swore he could still catch a hint of the wild and woodsy scent that clung to the older student. And every time he thought of the chaste press of mouths, something in his belly flip-flopped. A heat stole across his cheeks.

Kyouya wasn't ignorant. He knew what those responses meant. Even more than he understood what Mori-senpai's kiss meant. What he didn't get was why? Why him? Why hadn't he seen it coming? What the hell was he supposed to do now?

Useless. All of it.

With a disgusted snort, Kyouya snapped the notebook shut and let it drop, falling in a crumpled mess to the cobbled walkway below his slippered feet. The robe he wore was thick and comfortable. Enough that he could stand the night air without feeling chilled. It was late, dark enough that he should probably be thinking about going to sleep. But Kyouya's mind refused to settle. It continued to drift, leaping back and forth from one topic to the next.

Mori-senpai had kissed him.

No matter how much Kyouya tried to turn his thoughts to something – anything – else the more they shifted back to that warm kiss.

"Kyouya-senpai?"

He startled at the voice that broke through his musings. However softly it might have crept into the dark. Kyouya turned, spying Haruhi on the path, worry present in her brown eyes.

Kyouya straightened and shoved his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. "I'm surprised Tamaki is letting you wander around without supervision."

She shrugged. "I snuck out." The edge of a bony collarbone was visible as her robe slipped to the side. Haruhi nonchalantly fixed it.

"Like a daughter slipping into the night after curfew," Kyouya commented. And he shared a secret, knowing smile with Haruhi.

He supposed the fact that it wasn't her didn't bother Kyouya too much. He did enjoy her friendship, the common sense that she added to their club. Even without romance, he would've been glad to have met her.

Romance.

Kyouya hadn't thought about it until that moment, but he supposed that was where the kiss was heading. _Romance_. Kyouya hadn't been looking for it, but it had found him anyway. And it was nothing like the flowery, empty sparkles that Tamaki loudly praised.

"I suppose," Haruhi agreed with a chuckle and clasped her hands together behind her back. Her eyes flickered to the ground and the abandoned notebook at his feet. "I didn't take you for one to relax in a garden, senpai."

Kyouya lifted his shoulders. "Peace and quiet is difficult to find amongst the club," he explained though it was more of a diversion.

"How true." Haruhi hummed agreeably, and she looked at him again. "You know, Kyouya-senpai, not everything can be solved with an equation. And there are questions in the world that still haven't been answered."

Kyouya blinked slowly. "I'm not sure I follow," he said in a careful tone.

Sighing, the young woman moved to sit beside him. "You're looking for facts and formulas to solve a question that can't be answered by them," Haruhi explained, a sweet-smelling wind rising and ruffling the strands of her hair. "You should be looking somewhere else instead."

Kyouya wanted to ask her what she thought she knew. But Haruhi had always been more perceptive when it came to such things than anyone else. She was the first to notice the truth of his mask. And how much he cared for Tamaki. Even if Kyouya never said the words aloud. She was always noticing the little things. Though she rarely acknowledged them aloud.

And Kyouya strongly suspected that she already knew of Mori-senpai's attraction.

"Somewhere else?" Kyouya repeated, not caring what he had all but admitted.

Haruhi's foot nudged his abandoned notebook. "You should ask yourself if you like Mori-senpai before you worry about anything else. The why and how should be the least of your concerns, senpai."

Kyouya digested her words. His gaze slid away as he stared at a flowering bush, swaying in the breeze. Somewhere beyond them, he heard scattered laughter from a nearby outdoor spring.

Strange how he had mentally questioned himself as to his feelings for Tamaki. Yet when it came to Mori-senpai, he had only worried about the reasoning behind the kiss.

Haruhi rose to her feet, tucking her bangs behind her ears. "Don't stay out here too long. What would happen to the club if our Shadow King got sick, ne?"

"I think it would survive."

"Hmm. Perhaps." Haruhi shrugged and stepped onto the path, heading back through the garden.

Kyouya watched her go contemplatively. Her words rang through his thought processes and dismissing all the questions and theories he had held as important.

All but one. There was at least one wondering that could be answered with any certainty. Apparently, Mori-senpai _could _see someone beyond Honey-senpai.

Who would have ever guessed that someone would be Kyouya?

* * *

a/n: On to the next chapter!


	6. Part 6

**An Overlap of Coincidence **

**Part Six**

Not unexpectedly, Kyouya slept very little that night. So when the day dawned bright and cherry, he met it with a barely restrained snarl and dark circles underlining eyes. Not unlike the day Tamaki had dragged him from his bed and to the commoner's mall.

He grudgingly dragged himself from bed and prepared for the day. Managing to pull on his last shoe just as Tamaki burst into their shared room like a pack of fireworks, the rest of the club at his back. How early he had risen, Kyouya didn't even want to know.

"Kyouya!" he declared loudly with hands thrown into the air in joyous delight. "Did you know? There's a festival!"

"I knew," Kyouya all but grunted. He glared up at Tamaki, and then his gaze slid past the blond to Mori-senpai lingering at the back of the room.

As always, the elder student's look betrayed nothing. That was decidedly unfair.

"There's going to be cake!" Honey-senpai added with eyes full of sparkles.

"We're all going. Bonzai!" the twins contributed with a high-five and a pair of thumbs-up thrown in Kyouya's direction.

In the interest of not being dragged with or without his consent and lacking all of his fundamental needs – cell phone and wallet – Kyouya just rose to his feet. His so-called friends celebrated as Kyouya moved around in a half-daze, fatigue riding on his shoulders. He followed them out of the room and the inn, content to let the more energetic ones take the lead for now.

The brightness of the day greeted Kyouya, the sunshine streaming down and near-blinding him. He winced and shielded his eyes. Thinking to himself that it was far, far too early for anyone in their right mind to be awake. Much less him. Perhaps he wouldn't think that way if he hadn't been up all night thinking, but such was the way of things.

"You look tired, Kyou-chan," Honey-senpai commented with that oddly mature look that he occasionally displayed darkening his eyes.

"It's too early," Kyouya grunted by way of explanation.

Honey-senpai didn't look to believe him. He just gave Kyouya a knowing glance, which meant he probably did know. Mori-senpai had no doubt told him. And Haruhi knew. The others must have had some clue. After all, those gifts had always been left in plain sight. Someone had to have seen them. Which probably explained all of Tamaki's odd looks, too.

Kyouya stole a glance at Mori-senpai. Seeing nothing but the taller man's broad back, his form towering above the rest of the club. That odd flip in Kyouya's stomach refused to be still. And he unconsciously recalled the kiss, which could hardly be called a kiss in Kyouya's opinion. A mere brush of their lips, that was all. And yet it had affected him like this, as if Mori-senpai had bent him backwards and engaged their mouths in a duel.

That flip turned into a twisting coil of heat, and Kyouya blinked, the images flashing in the back of his mind. The idea didn't... repulse him. If his unconscious reaction was anything to go by. And certainly the heat that threatened to steal into Kyouya's cheeks proved his interest. Even as a sudden flash of his fingers dragging down that broad, strong back flooded the edges of his thoughts.

Kyouya shook his head, forcing the images out of his mind. They stubbornly lingered. And part of Kyouya regretted ever leaving his room for the day.

Especially when the crowds of women started to gather. It wasn't unusual. Six attractive men walking around together tended to attract attention. And now wasn't any different. Not even Haruhi's presence – her true gender given a boost by the flowery dress that Ranka-san had packed for her – could deter the stares, giggles, and blushing faces.

Kyouya, in the interest of being left alone, hung back from the group and stood on the outside of the admiring females with few daring to get close. One bold girl strode right up to Tamaki, her two friends at her back as support, and introduced herself. She had picked the right one. Tamaki was the only one of them who would never consider dismissing any female, no matter if they were unknown or not. Honey-senpai was another all too willing to put on a show. Sparkling and grinning cutely for the sake of the admiring women.

Seeing no profit in it for them, Kyouya was content to wander the edges of the crowd and take in the shops that dotted the edges of the street. They held some rather interesting items. He supposed they ought to thank Haruhi for introducing this other world to them. One each member of the club would have never taken another glance at if not for her presence. It had helped Kyouya as well, opening his eyes to other possible ventures.

He glanced at his fellow club members, eating up the admiring females like the attention-whores they were. All except for Haruhi herself and Mori-senpai whose face betrayed nothing like always. Even when the girls swooned around him, comments bubbling from their lips. Pressing closer and closer, some of the more bold ones daring to reach out and pat him on the shoulder or squeeze his muscles.

For some reason, that irritated Kyouya. These strangers... what did they think they were doing, reaching out and casually touching people they didn't know? Had they no manners? Kyouya glared, the heat behind his eyes unhampered by the barrier of his glasses.

And then Mori-senpai lifted his head, looking in Kyouya's direction as if already knowing that he had been standing there. Their eyes met. A spark of heat passed between them. Kyouya shivered, his mind conjuring up a memory.

Mori-senpai had smelled wild. Like the forest. The scent clung to him as though he spent days doing nothing but running through the trees. Kyouya remembered being crowded by his height but not intimidated. His cheeks flushed before he could stop them, swearing that the ghostly feeling of lips brushing across his was still present. He idly wondered – thoughts unbidden – what he would have done if Mori-senpai had taken it a step further.

Perhaps a touch of that large hand down Kyouya's back. A brush of those lips over Kyouya's throat, directly over the rapid pulse. Bare skin pressed against warm, equally bare skin. Gasps and moans echoing. Fingers running through dark hair. Either his or Mori-senpai's. Kyouya's scattered thoughts didn't seem to care which.

"_You should ask yourself if you like Mori-senpai before you worry about anything else."_

Her words rang in the back of his mind. He hadn't answered Mori-senpai yet. That kiss had been a confession, right?

And then someone spoke to Mori-senpai. Dragging his attention away and breaking the brief connection that had formed between them. Kyouya blinked, moving slowly as if coming away from a daze.

He watched as Honey-senpai clambered onto Mori-senpai's shoulders. Gleefully calling his name. The girls falling over themselves at the adorable picture.

And something tightened in Kyouya's belly.

"_You're looking for facts and formulas to solve a question that can't be answered by such things. You should be looking somewhere else instead." _

Somewhere else, Haruhi had said. He should be looking to himself for the answers, Kyouya surmised. And judging by the torrent of emotions that twisted his insides, they weren't too hard to find.

* * *

a/n: Next update? That I'm not sure of. But it will be the last one! I promise that! I'll update the last two chapters all at once.

Well, I hope you enjoyed! And once again, sorry for the delay!


	7. Part 7

Warnings for boykisses. But you already knew that. Enjoy!

**An Overlap of Coincidence**

**Chapter Seven**

Tamaki talked in his sleep, something that Kyouya had once considered just a little cute but at this moment found annoying. He wanted to sit and think in silence, to consider recent circumstances. But all he could hear was Tamaki murmuring all kinds of nonsense, flopped over his futon and clutching his teddy bear like a little boy. In many ways, Tamaki hadn't grown up at all, had he?

It was late; Kyouya himself should be sleeping. But he couldn't seem to get his mind to settle long enough for sleep to come. Fatigue dragged heavily on his body. But not even the lazy comfort of his shared room could drag him towards rest.

Tamaki flopped across his bed again, limbs sprawling in all directions. Kyouya shook his head. He wasn't going to get any thinking done here, not tonight and not with Tamaki holding a conversation with himself or whoever starred in his dreams. Pulling on his robe, Kyouya grabbed his room key and stepped out of their shared quarters. Better to wander through the silent inn than endure Tamaki's idiocy even when asleep.

The corridors were quiet, which made sense for the lateness of the evening. People came to inns and their associated onsen for rest and relaxation. Which often meant lots and lots of time for sleeping or other things. It was barely past midnight, but Kyouya passed few others. Mostly employees who bowed in greeting, recognizing him for the Ootori he was.

Kyouya folded his arms into his sleeves, looking at nothing in particular. Thoughts bouncing against each other like a half-dozen rubber balls trapped in a small space. He had no particular destination in mind. Just wandering in the hopes that exhausting his body would exhaust his mind as well.

Rounding a corner, Kyouya glanced into an alcove to his left and paused in his walk as he encountered a familiar person. Mori-senpai stood at a large entranceway, the sliding door drawn back to reveal the moon-lit night beyond. He was just standing there, staring into the dark with arms folded over his chest. Kyouya's pulse quickened without his consent as he caught a glimpse of Mori-senpai's expression, contemplative and serious.

Proving that his instincts had not dulled for the peace and quiet, Mori-senpai seemed to sense that he was being watched. He glanced over his shoulder, body angling towards the door.

"Kyouya."

"Mori-senpai," Kyouya acknowledged and stepped into the small alcove off to the side of the main hall. It was little more than a sitting room with some couches and chairs and a television set currently not in use. "You're not asleep?"

Which was pretty obvious, but Kyouya was grasping for straws here. Things felt awkward but not in uncomfortable. Just in the "_you kissed me and I liked it so what do we do now_" way.

"Not yet," Mori-senpai answered, presenting Kyouya his profile as he looked through the sliding door again. The moonlight had cast interesting shadows on his face. Turning it into conflicting shades of light and dark.

He was handsome, more than Kyouya had ever noticed before. More so than the prince-like attraction of Tamaki. Or the cuteness of Honey-senpai. Mori-senpai was handsome masculinity.

Kyouya drew nearer, focusing on the view that had captured Mori-senpai's attention. The garden that Kyouya had been sitting in yesterday could be seen through doorway, unvisited by any patron at the moment. This close to Mori-senpai, his nostrils flared to catch that tell-tale scent. And Kyouya had to hold himself back. This sudden urge to reach out and touch rattled through his thoughts.

"Tamaki talks in his sleep," Kyouya said, though it came out a bit of a babble since it didn't seem of much relevance right now.

"Ah." Mori-senpai shifted towards Kyouya. Their bodies were within reaching distance, and his gaze swept over the younger teen as though appraising him, making a decision.

Kyouya watched, wordless, anticipating something he didn't know enough to guess. His facts and figures and theories had all but tossed themselves out the proverbial window.

Mori-senpai reached for him. Kyouya didn't move, merely watched that hand come toward him. The fingers grasped his chin gently, Mori-senpai looking at him as though waiting for permission. And Kyouya tilted his head to the side.

He watched as a small smile pulled at the corner of Mori-senpai's mouth before the older boy leaned over and kissed him. Just a light peck. A chaste press of their lips just like before. And then, Mori-senpai drew back. As though intending to leave it at just that. Like he had the day before.

Kyouya was not letting him escape this time. His hands snapped up, fisting in the folds of Mori-senpai's robes and dragging him back down. Their lips met. More collision than kiss. But Kyouya didn't care. The kiss was open-mouthed. Kyouya tasted sweet mint – toothpaste – as Mori-senpai breathed into his mouth. And Kyouya was the first to introduce his tongue. Flicking it over Mori-senpai's bottom lip and shivering when a warm tongue greeted his.

The hand slid from Kyouya's chin to cup the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair. And he fought back a groan, the simple act of kissing Mori-senpai sending threads of heat through his body. The kiss deepened, their tongues tangling as their bodies collided. Kyouya pressed against the hard warmth of Mori-senpai and was not surprised to feel something hard against his abdomen.

Well, he supposed sex would be an eventual result of this, wouldn't it? Desire and romance went hand in hand. And though Kyouya hadn't really thought about it, judging by the heat racing through his body and the rampant staccato of his heart, not much thought was needed. His body was answering all his questions for him.

He wanted Mori-senpai. And it was obvious that the other man wanted him in return.

Kyouya didn't know how far they would've gone. Or if propriety would have reared its ugly head, reminding him of their circumstances. Either way, the sound of footsteps down the hall was like a warning. Mori-senpai's animal-like senses immediately responded, ending the kiss gently and putting a respectable distance between them.

When the person passed – just another patron of the inn out for a late night stroll – all he saw was two young men holding a conversation. Nothing else. And if Kyouya's cheeks were a little red, the stranger didn't comment. Only tipped his head in greeting and continued on his way.

Kyouya, for his part, was thinking desperately about finding some privacy for the throbbing beneath his robe.

Mori-senpai watched him with something hungry behind his eyes. "You've thought about it?"

And though most of this... _courtship_ had been spent without words, Kyouya realized that now was in fact the proper time to invite them in. There was only so much that could be said with actions. Even if those actions practically screamed consent.

"More than I'm willing to admit," Kyouya replied truthfully because this was Mori-senpai and he never played those word games. Blunt and honest suited him best, and Kyouya understood that well.

"And?"

Despite his better efforts, Kyouya couldn't keep the heat from his cheeks. It felt like weakness to him, and he supposed that made sense. Here was something he had not calculated and had not planned.

If he looked close enough, Kyouya was sure he could find some benefit in a romance, but Haruhi was right. Kyouya couldn't look at this as a transaction or a plot to be chosen. He had to consider it something else entirely.

Kyouya tilted his head and adjusted his glasses with the tip of one finger. "I'm open to exploring new possibilities," he commented. And something leapt around in excitement in his belly. Especially when that slow smile slid across Mori-senpai's lips.

"Good," Mori-senpai said and with a quick glance around to ensure their privacy, reached for another kiss.

Kyouya was all-too-willing to oblige.

* * *

a/n: One more chapter to go!


	8. Final Part

**An Overlap of Coincidence**

**Final Part **

"Something's different," Haruhi commented with a look at Kyouya as a concierge loaded their baggage into the limousines.

"Different?" Kyouya, pretending full interest in his notebook as he jotted down quick tidbits about their stay at the onsen, didn't even look up.

"About you," Haruhi elaborated with that keen look in her eyes proving she probably knew exactly what was different but wanted to hear him say it.

His pen scratched across the paper, complimenting the inn on its choice of gardening. "I haven't noticed anything."

"Even if you did, you wouldn't admit it." She gave a light chuckle, and her gaze flickered over the rest of the club.

Tamaki was making a great show of thanking the proprietor of the inn, while the others stood around and observed. Well, everyone except Mori-senpai. Who chose to help the concierges load their luggage much to the admiration of the ladies watching from the doorway.

"Perhaps." Kyouya paused to watch as Mori-senpai lifted one bag and shoved it into the trunk, making room for all of the others.

For a group that consisted of six males and one female, there was a surprising amount of luggage. Especially when considering that Haruhi had one brought one bag as had Kyouya and Mori-senpai. It didn't take a genius to figure out who had brought the majority of the bags. Then again, Kyouya had only to look at his companions to understand why. Haruhi's single duffel looked pitiful next to the mountain of suitcases that served to hold the Hitachiin wardrobe.

"You took my advice, hmm?" Haruhi asked, no doubt catching him in the act of watching Mori-senpai at work.

Kyouya, to his credit, did not blush at all. In fact, he forced himself to tear his gaze away from his... lover? Boyfriend? Ah, did it really matter what he called... Takashi? He focused again on his notes, adding the last little bit before closing the pad with a snap.

"Something like that," he replied vaguely, unwilling to divulge such information without there being a benefit in it for him. "Looks like it's time to go."

Haruhi watched him with a smile of amusement. "I guess even Kyouya-senpai can be wooed," she said and walked past him, climbing into the limousine she had opted to share with the twins as opposed to Tamaki.

Feeling the weight of observing eyes, Kyouya flicked his gaze towards Mori-senpai who was looking his direction. Their eyes met with a spark of heat – a promise of something to come much later. And Kyouya hastily glanced away before his reaction betrayed him.

Wooed, hmm?

Perhaps it was a bit more than that. Something that he was actually willing to admit as he tapped the end of a very familiar pen against his clipboard. And with that, he climbed into the limousine he would share with Tamaki. Mentally preparing himself for the arduous task of both ignoring and listening to his best friend all at once.

"Look, Kyouya!" Tamaki ordered, all but bouncing in his seat as he thrust a small, wrapped package in Kyouya's direction. "This was sitting here when I got in!"

Kyouya glanced at the box. It was wrapped with a dark red ribbon, and he felt a smirk trying to tug at his lips. He reached for it as he settled against the dark leather, wondering if Tamaki was truly as oblivious as he seemed.

"I don't know why he's bothering with being sneaky now," the blond continued, purplish blue eyes big and sparkling. "I mean, everyone already knows."

"Do they?" Kyouya asked, only giving Tamaki half his attention as he pulled off the ribbon and opened the flaps. The contents rattled. He furrowed his brow, wondering what would make that sound.

There wasn't much within. He only saw tissue paper at first. And Kyouya pulled out the white wrapping as Tamaki crowded in his space, also eager to see the contents.

"It's... a button," his friend said, tilting his head in confusion.

Kyouya tipped the box over, and the blue button dropped into his palm. He recognized it immediately, the small kanji imprinted in the hard plastic identifying it as belonging to Ouran Academy. It was a button from someone's jacket, and Kyouya didn't need more than one guess to identify the person.

Someone had been listening to Haruhi's commoner stories again.

"I don't get it," Tamaki said with a small frown.

Kyouya chuckled, already sliding the small button into his pocket for safekeeping. "Get Haruhi to explain it to you," he commented half-amused and half-charmed by the thoughtful gift. Only someone like Mori-senpai – _Takashi_ – would think of this.

The limousine pulled out, prompting Tamaki to move back to his seat. And Kyouya settled in comfortably for the reasonably lengthy ride. Content in the knowledge that he had made the right choice.

* * *

a/n: And that's the last of this little ficlet series. I do hope you enjoyed. And thanks to everyone who stopped by to leave a little note.


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